The Auction

by Claire Thompson

  She still wasn’t sure what the heck had happened. She had started out with the sole intention of making Adam come per his morning instructions, but something had taken over her body, completely bypassing her brain. She’d found herself licking, suckling, worshipping Adam’s body with the devotion of a lover. With each stroke of her tongue and caress of her fingers she had felt herself sliding deeper into a submissive headspace she’d rarely experienced in her life, the kind of headspace she’d thought was reserved for someone in love.

  In love…

  Vigorously Carly rubbed the shampoo into her scalp, as if she could scrub the very idea away. There was no way she was in love with this guy! First of all, she’d only been with him a few days. Second of all, she was nothing more than a commodity to him—a plaything with an already predetermined expiration date. Who could love someone like that, someone who chose to buy what should be given freely?

  She shook her head beneath the water and mouthed the word no. If and when she ever fell in love again, it would be with someone who valued her not only as a submissive sex object, but as a woman, as a person.

  And yet…

  The way he’d pulled her to him, flipping her body, his mouth closing over her sex, his tongue and fingers moving in such a way that she was trembling within seconds—his had been a lover’s touch, hadn’t it? Or was it really just an extension of his control—he did it because he could, because he understood how to touch a woman, how to draw reactions. That didn’t necessarily mean anything beyond the fact that he was sexually skilled and attuned to a woman’s body. She’d already learned that the first night in the car. It was nothing new, so why did things feel so different this morning?

  After rinsing and conditioning her hair, Carly began to groom her body, carefully smoothing away any stubble with her razor. She worked quickly and efficiently. Rinsing the conditioner from her hair, she stepped out of the shower and dried herself.

  Carly stood waiting in the bedroom, her fingers laced behind her neck, her legs shoulder-width apart. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, silently promising herself to keep her emotions in check going forward, no matter what curves Adam threw her way. She needed to keep her emotional distance if she was to survive this month as his toy.

  He came into the bedroom in just a pair of cargo shorts, his damp hair curling down his neck, his eyes sweeping her body. He was holding a small leather quirt in one hand, a large glass of water in the other. As he approached her, she could smell his freshly soaped skin and couldn’t help but admire his muscular pecs and biceps.

  “Drink this,” he instructed, holding the glass out to her. “All of it.”

  Though Carly would have preferred her morning coffee, she was rather thirsty and, without thinking too much about it, she drank down the fresh, cool water. Adam took the empty glass from her and set it down on the bureau.

  “Resume your position,” he said, returning to her. “Hands behind your head, legs spread wide.” Once she had reassumed the inspection position, Adam stroked his fingers over her body. When he got to her cunt, he slid a finger between her labia, the tip brushing her hooded clit and moving back to press inside of her. Carly couldn’t stop the tremor that moved through her body at his touch. At the same time he reached for her throat with his other hand as his clear gray eyes looked past her face and into her secrets.

  For a moment Carly thought he was going to say something about what had happened between them in the bed that morning, but he said nothing as he stared into her eyes. The feel of his fingers on her throat softened something inside her, as such a touch always did. She realized she wanted to wrap her arms around his body and pull his face down to hers. So much for keeping her distance.

  A small smile quirked along one side of Adam’s mouth and Carly had the disquieting feeling he had just read her thoughts. She felt herself coloring and she wanted to look away, but Adam’s strong fingers on her throat held her fast.

  Just think of the money, she tried to tell herself. That’s all that matters.

  But she knew she was lying. God help her, she was falling for this guy, and there didn’t seem to be a thing she could do to stop it.

  Finally releasing her, Adam pointed to the low stool and Carly draped herself over it, her ass tingling in anticipation of the quirt’s stroke. It came fast, a searing sting over both cheeks.

  Gripping a handful of her wet hair, Adam pulled Carly to her feet. “It’s early. Before we have breakfast, I’m going to take you down to the water chamber. I assume you’re familiar with erotic water play?”

  Carly’s mind flashed to the site she’d sometimes perused online—a water bondage site where girls were bound in rope and dunked into pools, or chained against a wall and sprayed with powerful hoses. Her stomach clenched in nervous anticipation at the thought Adam might want to do that to her. While she had no fear of water, the thought of that kind of play frightened her. She gave voice to none of her musings, not wanting to come across as the novice she in fact was.

  “Yes, Sir,” she replied.

  “Good.”

  Reaching into one of the many pockets in his shorts, Adam withdrew a slim metal leash, which he attached to her collar. Using the leash, he led Carly out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Adam took her through the large dining room, past a table that seated twelve. Between the dining room and the kitchen was an old-fashioned butler’s pantry with a door at the far end that opened on a set of descending stairs.

  The basement at the bottom of the stairs had white walls, the floor covered in black and white checked linoleum. There was a fancy washer and dryer set against one wall, with a stainless steel sink and folding counter beside them. Shelves lined the back wall filled with various tools, cans of paint and the usual paraphernalia that accumulated in household basements.

  Adam led Carly through the room to a locked door on the far wall. Taking a set of keys from one of his pockets, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Once inside, Adam removed Carly’s leash and flicked on the light.

  The walls and ceiling of this second spacious room were tiled like an indoor pool, the floor covered with thick rubber matting, drains set at intervals throughout the room. What looked like a huge fish tank occupied most of one wall, the water inside tinted pale blue by lights set beneath it. The tank was covered with a folding lid, like the kind used on outdoor hot tubs. It was flanked on either side by thick, sturdy-looking platforms. Hanging from a winch in the ceiling above it were half a dozen thick chains with large clips attached to their ends.

  Tearing her gaze from the tub, Carly saw there were several black hoses neatly coiled and hanging on hooks along one wall, with faucets near the ground beneath them. On a perpendicular wall there were thick eyebolts embedded into the concrete at various intervals with plastic cuffs dangling from them by chains.

  The room was warm but that didn’t stop the shiver of apprehension that moved through Carly’s naked body as she wrapped her arms protectively around her torso. There had been no water play training during the weeklong intensive at the auction house. She stared with naked fear at the water tank and thought about what she hadn’t revealed in her dossier. What if she couldn’t handle whatever it was Adam had planned for her?

  Adam moved toward the tub and lifted back the lid. Steam rose from the water. He turned toward Carly, his eyes glittering. “Imagine yourself with your arms bound tightly at your sides, your body crisscrossed in a webbing of thick rope. You would be suspended from those chains and then lowered, inch by inch, until you were under the water, your very breath controlled by another, your life, quite literally, in his hands.”

  Auction, Carly reminded herself. That’s my safeword. I can use it if I need it. Wait! How would she use her safeword if she was submerged in the water? She opened her mouth, about to ask for permission to speak, but closed it as Adam continued.

  “It takes extraordinary trust between two people to engage in the kind of intense breath play this submersion tank makes possible.
While I know your contract says nothing regarding hard limits when it comes to water play, I don’t believe you’re ready yet for that kind of scenario.”

  Carly felt relief pulse through her body and she blew out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “No, Sir,” she whispered gratefully.

  Her relief was short-lived, however, as Adam said, “This morning we’ll see how you handle the spray. But before we do that, you’re going to pee for me.”

  “I’m sorry, what, Sir?” She had heard him, but hoped she had not heard him correctly.

  “You’re going to squat over that drain”—Adam pointed to the drain set into the concrete near the hoses—“and empty your bladder. I’m going to watch. After that, I’ll hose you down.”

  Carly flashed back to Patty at the auction house. Her refusal to pee in front of the others had resulted in her dismissal from the program. At the time Carly had been deeply, silently grateful that she hadn’t been the one called upon to squat on the newspaper like a puppy. Now she understood all too well why Adam had her drink that large glass of water.

  Carly took a deep breath. She could do this. What was the big deal? She blew out the air slowly, willing herself to be calm and graceful. Graceful! That was a laugh. She felt awkward and humiliated as she forced herself to squat over the drain.

  At least her bladder was full. She closed her eyes to Adam’s intense scrutiny and thought of flowing water.

  Nothing happened.

  “Go on. Are you disobeying me?” Adam demanded.

  Carly opened her eyes. “No, Sir! At least, not on purpose. I’m trying. It’s—it’s kind of embarrassing, Sir.”

  Master Franklin’s words moved through her mind. Modesty, he had said, implies boundaries. It implies your separateness from your Master. A true slave gives up her modesty as a gift to her Master.

  Carly felt the sudden easing of her muscles and the warm stream of urine splashing down between her legs. She closed her eyes again, aware she was blushing, but relieved she’d been able to obey Adam.

  “Good girl,” Adam said warmly. Mixed with her embarrassment, Carly experienced an odd sense of pride. She had done what he’d asked of her, despite her reservations. She had worked past her modesty. She had pleased her Master.

  Adam pulled Carly up by the arm and positioned her with her back against the concrete wall between the eyebolts. Reaching for her wrists, he lifted them, pressing them against the wall over her head. “Stay in that position. I’m going to chain you in place.”

  Grasping the chains on either side of her, Adam pulled the cuffs open and secured her wrists against the wall. He did the same thing with her ankles, so she was spread eagle against the cool concrete. “Arch your pelvis, show me that cunt,” Adam ordered, tapping her hip. Carly tried to obey, though it was difficult to move, chained as she was.

  Adam moved toward the wall with the hoses and reached for one, uncoiling it from its spool. Bending down, he turned on a faucet and held his fingers beneath the running water for several seconds before turning it off to attach the hose.

  Carly’s heart was beating high in her throat. She tried to take several deep, calming breaths, but each one came out in a shuddery gasp. Adam came to stand in front of her. He reached for the hair that had fallen into her eyes, pushing it from her face. His touch was gentle, his expression kind, though his eyes seemed to be glittering with an inner fire that made Carly catch her breath.

  For one ridiculous second she thought he was going to kiss her, but he only leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Calm yourself, Carly. Slow your breathing. Show me your grace.” He stroked her cheek, his fingers sliding sensually down her throat. “I won't give you more than you can handle.” His hands found her nipples, catching them between thumbs and forefingers, rolling them like marbles as they stiffened to his touch.

  When they were fully erect, he twisted hard, all the while looking deep into her eyes. Carly winced as the pain shot through her nipples, but then moaned as it went zipping along her nerve endings to lodge directly in her cunt, which she could feel swelling and moistening between her spread legs. Adam offered a knowing smile as he let her go and stepped back.

  He moved toward the hose and returned to stand in front of her. Pointing the nozzle at her groin, he squeezed the lever, sending a spray of water in her direction. Reflexively Carly closed her eyes, expecting a freezing blast, but the water that hit her skin was surprisingly, even pleasantly, warm. He sprayed her sex and rinsed away the dribble of pee that had slid down her thigh.

  Adam moved the spray over her body, drawing it under her arms and along her sides, playing it over her breasts, aiming it at her nipples. “You have one job this morning. That is not to come. You will exhibit self control. No orgasm. Not unless or until I say so. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Carly gasped, again squeezing her eyes shut as the spray splashed into her face.

  Adam turned the head of the nozzle and the spray became a more focused stream of water that he aimed between her legs. “Give me that cunt,” he ordered in a hoarse voice. Carly saw the erection tenting beneath his shorts. “Arch it forward,” he commanded, and she struggled in her chains to obey.

  The jet stream hit her spread pussy in an explosion of warm, pounding water, instantly sending jolts of sensation through her body—not precisely pleasure, not precisely pain, but definitely intense. Just when the pressure was nearly too much to bear, he shifted the spray, moving it over her body in no particular pattern.

  Then it was back at her cunt, vibrating the delicate folds and pounding against her clit in a steady stream. “Oh god,” she heard herself groan. Don’t come, don’t come. Think of something else. Tax returns. A root canal. Don’t come. Don’t come.

  She tried to twist her body away, but Adam barked, “Cunt out. Don’t you dare shift away.”

  The spray pelted her sex, a steady, sharp stream of relentless stimulation. As the water continued to pound at her clit, Carly’s body began to judder of its own accord, an orgasm building against the flimsy dam of her self control, despite her desperate attempts to resist. Car trouble, getting fired, no place to live…

  It didn’t work. She couldn’t fight the rising surge of climactic release being forced from her body by the masturbatory fingers of the water stream. Giving in, she felt her head fall back against the wall, her wrists and ankles straining against their cuffs, her heart bursting in her chest as the orgasm was wrested from her unwilling body.

  For a moment she couldn’t figure out where she was, and why she was dripping wet. Then it came rushing back, and she realized she must have blacked out for a second or two. Adam had dropped the hose and was standing in front of her, shaking his head with a bemused expression.

  He reached for her wrists cuffs, pulling them free. Crouching, he released her ankles as well. As she stepped away from the wall on rubbery legs, Adam moved toward a cabinet near the door that Carly hadn’t noticed before. He took out a thick, white terrycloth robe, which he draped around Carly’s shivering shoulders.

  To her surprise, he took her into his arms, cradling her against his body. Tentatively, she dared to wrap her own arms around his waist, ready to instantly retreat if he gave any sign that she was overstepping. But he only held her tighter, and she could feel his cheek against the side of her head, and his hard, muscular chest against her breasts. What she really wanted, she realized as he held her, was a kiss.

  What she got instead was a pat on the bottom, and then he dropped his arms and stepped back to look at her. “What am I going to do with you, Carly? You can’t obey the simplest command.” His eyes were twinkling, but the curve of his mouth was cruel, and Carly knew she was going to be punished for her lack of self control.

  “I think I know what we’ll work on after breakfast and chores today,” he said, using a towel to dry his own wet torso. “Any slave girl worth her salt needs to learn to control her orgasm.” Pulling her leash from his pocket, Adam attached it to the wet leather coll
ar around her neck. Giving it a light tug, he added nonchalantly, “We’ll begin right after your whipping.”

  Chapter 9

  Carly’s arms were extended over her head, her wrists cuffed to chains hanging from a beam in the dungeon’s ceiling. She was stretched taut, her legs spread wide and held in place by cuffs hooked to bolts in the floor by each ankle.

  Adam walked around her in a slow, continuous circle, striking her body with the heavy flogger, its leather tresses stinging her skin as they snapped against her ass, her thighs, her breasts, her shoulders. She could feel the sweat pricking beneath her underarms, and the rush of breath rising in her throat. When he flicked the leather between her spread legs Carly jerked hard and gave a startled cry of pain. When the tips of the leather caught at her nipples, she gasped and began to pant.

  Adam continued to move in a circle around her as he flogged her, his movements almost lazy as he let the stinging leather land against her body. When he began to speak, Carly had to concentrate to make sense of his words over the ragged pant of her own breath and the sparks of fiery pain showering her skin.

  “Erotic suffering can come in many forms,” he was saying. “This pain you feel now as the leather kisses your skin”—he struck her breasts with a stinging thwack—“is easily identifiable by your brain as pain. But there are different ways to suffer, ways we will explore together.” He struck her ass, the tips of the leather tresses curling cruelly around her hip.

  The flogger swished and whirled around her body, covering every inch of her flesh until Carly felt as if her skin were being flayed from her body, her breath pushed from her lungs in hiccupping cries. She was dizzy and might have fallen if she hadn’t been held up by chains, her feet locked into place. As it was, she sagged heavily against the wrist cuffs, her chin dropping onto her chest.

  When he finally let her down, Carly fell to her knees, a wave of dizziness moving over her, her mind a fog. Adam crouched beside her, stroking the hair from her face. His touch was gentle as he helped her to a more comfortable sitting position on the carpet. He sat beside her. She could smell his clean soap scent and the hint of masculine sweat. She could feel the heat of his skin near hers. To keep herself from reaching for him, she drew up her legs, wrapping her arms around her knees.